


emotional roughhousing

by TrasBen



Series: room for three [3]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Beach Day, Fluff, Horrortale Papyrus (Undertale), Horrortale Sans (Undertale), It's a lot of fluff, M/M, Permanent Injury, Underfell Sans (Undertale), Underfell Sans/Horrortale Sans (Undertale), Underfell Sans/Undertale Sans/Horrortale Sans (Undertale), Undertale Sans (Undertale), bloodykustard, it's axe's skull, redblood, socket rimming
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-27
Updated: 2020-12-08
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:26:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27234949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrasBen/pseuds/TrasBen
Summary: Sometimes things are good. You know.[a collection of shorts from before, during, and after sans enters a relationship with red and axe]
Relationships: Sans/Sans (Undertale)
Series: room for three [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1636198
Comments: 27
Kudos: 86





	1. dawn

**Author's Note:**

> okay okay okay okay
> 
> so. hibernation,,,, not really workin' out for me all that well!!! so!!! new idea: im putting my scheduled works on hold (small town skeleton and a hunter, sins of the lazy, hold your horses) until the new year when im better equipped to write on a schedule.
> 
> stuff like this, tho,,,,,, i will post sporadically! because writing and posting stuff for other ppl to read makes me really happy and i dont need to deprive myself of my lil serotonin points as well as all my other hobbies.
> 
> that said, please enjoy. i love these boys.

It’s fucking cold this early. Even the sun doesn’t want to be awake at four in the goddamn morning, and neither does Red. Personally, he thinks it should be illegal to go to the beach in the dead center of winter, even more so when it’s near freezing outside. 

The decision wasn’t really up to Red, though.

Sugar is a real sweetheart, but _damn,_ the things Red wishes he _wouldn’t_ do for the gangly skeleton. And, of course, Axe could never deny his younger brother for anything, even if it meant freezing his damned coccyx off before dawn's morning piss.

Between the three of them, Red is the only one who’s really suited to drive for two hours in the dark. Axe’s head injury and its effects on his memory, impulse control, and focus pretty much means he’s busing it out for the rest of his natural life. Not that he or Red really have nor need a car to drive.

But Sugar’s got a nice minivan, soccer mom style, good gas mileage and sturdy as a fuckin’ tank. Bright red, like a maraschino cherry. He’s not cleared to drive between the wee hours of night and morning, either, due to how his eyesight got all bad during the famine. 

Which leaves Red to be the one playing chauffeur for their little party of three. When Red finally pulls up to the slab of concrete that acts as a parking lot at six a.m., the beach is dead. There’s nobody around, which he guesses is the only, _only_ good part about waking up so early. No annoying humans to gawk at them or pansy monsters to flinch away when they get near.

Probably why Sugar flounces out of the car so eagerly so he can grab up his swimming gear from the back of the trunk to run over to where the waves meet the land. He’s got on a nice one-piece swimming suit, which he’d gushed over for days after he bought it. It’s got little frills with a cartoon fish print on the front.

He's already on the beach, sitting in the shallowest end of the water, looking over at where the sun would be rising in maybe half an hour. He’s got little buckets with him, which are probably for making sand castles.

Axe is the last one to lumber out of the car, from the back where he’d been napping. The giant monster spares a second to look after his brother fondly and chuckle before he drags himself over to Red. He wraps an arm around Red’s shoulders and leans on him heavily.

But Red is still pretending to be more pissy than he really is about this whole affair, so he shrugs off Axe’s arm with a grunt so he can get the rest of their shit from the back. A few towels (a lot of towels), a big ass umbrella, and a cooler. Red shifts the towels with the umbrella under one arm and the cooler under the other. He’s not exactly dainty, himself.

Red’s boyfriend-fuckbuddy-roommate only snorts at the slight and follows him down to the beach where Red starts to set shit up. As soon as a towel’s on the ground, the big guy is lounging across it, eye sockets closing immediately like he didn’t just get an extra two hours of sleep in the car. 

Doesn’t matter to Red. He just lays all the other towels out ,because there’s no way three giant monsters are going to fit on only one or two, and stabs into the ground with the umbrella. Not that there’s a sun to block the light from. Cooler off to the side, Red collapses next to Axe and stares up at the sky. 

No stars, go figure.

The scent of briny sea water and copper and pine wash over Red. The latter two are courtesy of Axe's own strange smell, but the ocean isn’t so bad, either. The sound of gentle waves with the occasional interrupting seagull don’t even make Red furrow his brow.

Yeah. Okay. It’s a little nice, so what.

“how long ‘re we gonna be here for?” Red mumbles over to Axe, not certain that the oaf isn’t sleeping again already.

For a second, there’s no response, and Red thinks Axe really might’ve crashed again, but a low droning hum starts right by his acoustic meatus. Red hides the way it causes his bones to rattle happily.

“mmm…. an hour…. maybe. two.” 

One of Axe’s arms comes up to nudge under Red’s cervical vertebrae, and he lifts his skull a little for the (slightly, only a little bit, really) bigger skeleton to slide his humerus under and pillow Red’s neck. He definitely doesn’t curl into Axe’s side, or slip his sockets shut.

Fuck. He’s tired.

“sugar’s taking us home.” Red says, roughly. He’s demanding more than requesting. Fuck driving four hours in one day, it should be light enough by then that it’s safe for the tallest of them to make it back safely while Red sprawls out across the back seats.

“yep.” Axe replies, all low and relaxed. “... thanks for doin’ this for him.” The hand under Red’s shoulder gives him a little scritch, a comforting touch.

Shit. Doesn’t that just make it all better.

(The worst part is that it does.)

“fuck you.” Red grumbles, “fuck you. goddamnit.” So fucking unfair. Axe can make him feel all these weird things and then soothe it all over it all seem normal with a pet to his shoulder or spine. A little touch or look is all it takes before Red’s all gooey again, after being tough his entire life. Should be a damn crime. Red should do something about it, but he won’t

Axe laughs, the kind of laugh that’s too precious for a big guy like himself. “hehe, what’s wrong, babe? grumpy?”

“...” Red sighs and curls in closer to Axe, settling his chin on the other’s collar bone. Maybe he is a little grumpy, where’s the harm in that? At least Sugar’s having fun, and Axe doesn’t seem to mind that they’re all probably going to have sand stuck in their joints for the next month.

“mmm…” Axe hums again, just as care-free as before. “not talking, eh?”

There’s a few more gentle scritches. Along Red’s scapula, to his vertebrae, along the front of his ribs. Red shudders out a deeper sigh as he relaxes.

“m’okay.” He says. “just fuckin’ tired is all.”

Axe makes a noise of acknowledgment, from where his throat would be if he had one. “... _i'm_ a lil’ grumpy, you know.”

There’s a wicked little edge in his voice, one that let’s Red know he probably shouldn’t indulge his boyfriend-lover- _roommate_. Of course Red does anyways.

“yeah?” He asks.

“yeah. miss our bed.” He says, “... we’re gonna miss morning sex”

Red actually snickers. “we could stay here for hours and get home in time for morning sex.”

Axe tilts his head towards Red, his sockets lidded and one giant eye light hazy. “or we could just... do it here.”

Red might’ve actually blushed, but that’s not important.

Because just then, they’re both reminded of why beach-morning-sex isn’t an option. It happens in the form of Sugar bounding up to their little spot, wet sand cupped in his hands, beaming like the sun that _still_ isn’t up.

“BROTHER!! RED!! I’VE FOUND THE MOST CURIOUS LITTLE CREATURES.”

Bless his SOUL, Sugar’s glasses are taped with duct tape to the sides of his skull and dotted with sea water.

Red sits up, drawing a noise of dissatisfaction from Axe. He scratches at the back of his skull and looks to what Sugar’s shoving into his face. He has to squint to see the tiny clams on top of the soggy sand. Like, really small clams. Probably the size of a pebble each.

“WAIT FOR IT!!” Sugar encourages, looking down eagerly at the little clams. He’s nearly vibrating in place, but is careful to keep his hands steady.

Red waits. Axe even pulls himself up to take a gander.

It takes a minute or two, but eventually, a little clear jelly-looking appendage slips out between the two halves of the shell and the things dig themselves back into the shallow sand in Sugar’s hands.

Red clicks his tongue, “huh.” That’s neat. Almost unbelievable, really. That there are things so tiny and defenseless just living their little lives, on the same beach monsters and humans visit and talk and laugh on. Simple.

“... think we can eat ‘em?” Axe cuts in, only half joking.

Sugar gasps in offense and cradles the handful to his rib cage. “I…” He starts, only to pause. He peers down curiously at the small indents the clams have left in the sand, “... MAYBE. I WONDER IF THERE ARE ANY LARGER ONES ON THE BEACH. THESE ONES ARE RATHER SMALL.”

“babies?” Axe mutters curiously.

“PERHAPS. ALTHOUGH, I MIGHT PICK UP CLAMS FROM THE MARKET ON FRIDAY FOR DINNER.” Sugar makes a few more comments to himself and his brother, then returns to the water and sets the clams back in the sand.

Red takes a glance down at Axe, who is staring after his brother with a faraway expression. He thinks he might know why. Food wasn’t exactly easy to come by back where he’s from, either. To be so sure of your next meal… to be able to plan as far as a week in advance and to not worry, it’s nice.

Everything about this universe is nice. Except for traffic, which is a fucking bitch, but other than that. Fucking perfect, almost. Just like the fact that both he and Axe happened to fall into this universe within the same year, just like how they happened to fall into each other’s beds and souls…

Fucking perfect. For real.

It’s too much, everything is too much. From the way the sun is finally starting to rise, casting a pink glow on their bones, to the sound of the waves and the knowledge that he’s _safe_ (relatively)...

Red might just explode from how _good_ it is.

So he has to fuck things up. Just a little, at least.

“hey.” He calls softly, grinning.

Axe turns to face Red, his sharp-toothed grin growing positively wicked.

“... what?” Axe replies, all good-naturedly like. Figures. He’d had his fun earlier, he’ll let Red get a few kicks of his own.

“bitch.”

Axe’s grin falls on one side, but it’s back just as quick. He snorts and returns the sentiment, “bitch.”

But Red’s not done. “ _bitch._ ” He says again, all smug and teasing and smiling because he knows he can get away with it.

His _boyfriend’s_ brow twitches. “... bitch.”

“biiiitch.” Red draws the word out, then punctuates it by flicking Axe right between the sockets.

Axe’s eye light follows the movement like a predator tracking its prey, and when Red lands the flick, his skeletal grin grows viscous. “oh, _boy_ ,” He chuckles lowly, and Red blushes, honest that time. Fucking hell, if Axe doesn’t sound like honey on a regular day. This is just damn sinful.

Red’s own grin is a little manic. His magic is buzzing, telling him to get up and _run._ But he’ll stick around just for what Axe is going to say next.

“.... you’re gonna regret that.” Axe finishes.

Red, uh, _highly doubts that._

His instincts recognize the micro-movements that signal Axe is preparing to lunge long before his conscious brain does, and so Red is already dodging and on his feet by the time Axe has started chasing him. 

They’re kicking up sand as they run, feet sinking into the grains below without any webbing to keep it from filling the spaces between their bones. But it doesn’t matter at the moment, with Red’s magic flaring wildly and Axe’s right up behind him, like arms that are ready to snatch him up.

The chase goes on for awhile, mostly because Red has gotten really good at getting the _fuck out_ from his time back in ‘Fell, and Axe is just as proficient as giving chase due to his own fucked up ‘verse. 

It’s almost as good as the real thing: the danger, the promise of retribution.

But no good thing lasts forever. Red’s getting tired and his ribs ache from how his magic is pumping all around his body so fast, so he tries his next best tactic: stopping. He drives the heels of his feet into the ground, skidding up some more sand as he comes to a sudden halt, but behind him Axe can’t exactly manage the same thing.

The bigger skeleton crashes into him, sending them both toppling into the sand. It hurts, in the way that Red knows he’s probably going to have a bruise or two later, but Red’s pretty good at dealing with hurt, not that this is that bad, anyway.

Using Axe’s loss of balance to his advantage, Red quickly rolls the two of them over until he’s on top, grinning down at Axe, who’s still dazed.

If he were still in ‘Fell, this would be different. Red would be driving a bone or knife into Axe’s eye socket, maybe a few times just to be sure, until he falls to dust beneath him. But he’s not in ‘Fell. He’s in a pansy universe where you can buy fucking _clams_ from a market, even if they’re not in season.

And Axe is alive and sturdy underneath him, cognizance returning stronger with every pulse of his eye light. Red knows he’s back fully when his hands come up to squeeze Red’s illia. “thinkin' about my offer?”

Axe gives a tiny little thrust of his pelvis upwards, and Red’s grin quirks at one end as he gives a little grind back. But, no.

“not sure that’s something shugs would wanna see.” Red jokes.

“prob’ly not.” Axe concedes, sounding almost genuinely remorseful. “but i still wanna try something…”

“yeah?” Red hums, “go for it.”

Then, Axe is _lifting Red up by his hips_. He hauls the ( _really, only slightly)_ smaller skeleton up to his shoulder as he stands, and Red is too shocked to do anything about it. He feels the familiar spark of a shortcut, and suddenly, Axe is standing in the ocean, kneecap deep.

Then, he fucking _drops_ Red like the sack of potatoes he is. A big, lumpy sack full of angry potatoes screeching an impressive string of curses.

… 

Axe is ultimately unhelpful in dragging Red out of the _freezing, nasty_ water. That job goes to Sugar, who can’t stop laughing, even though he’s trying to hide it. Red’s a little grumpy all over again, but it’s nothing Axe can’t fix with a few scritches. Fucking bastard.

* * *

The sun is up when Red and Axe drag themselves back to their little pallet of towels. Red’s got a clean-ish one wrapped around his shoulders, while Axe has got his head in his lap, neck angled so Red can see straight into the hole in his head.

“well, fuck this shit.” He mumbles as he _gently, gently_ scrapes out the sand that had gotten into the hole when Red had pinned him. Hadn’t seen this shit coming.

“mmm…” Axe has got his sockets shut, probably _so_ self satisfied that he gets to lay down for the third time today while Red does work. Lazy bastard. “... feels good.” He says, finally.

“really? 'cause this isn’t what comes to mind when i think of skull fucking.” Red tells him, wrist deep in his skull. Yuck. He can feel all of the magic in here, curiously poking at his bones. It feels staticky, a little painful but nothing Red’s masochistic tendencies can’t handle.

Axe cracks an eye socket open, “you’re bein’ real gentle. it’s nice.”

And no, shut up, that doesn’t make Red want to smile until his skull splits in half, fuck off.


	2. needy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> it's a slow morning for red and axe
> 
> ...
> 
> right up until sans gives them a call

The day started out the same as any other slow day: with Red waking up a little before noon. The bed beside him is empty, sheets and blankets all rumpled like the person beside him had slouched out of bed.

Axe probably had, it’s not like either of them are especially predisposed to grace.

Red does the exact same and rolls over until he can drop his feet underneath him on the floor. He scratches at one of his lumbar vertebrae and yawns, stretching, only to wheeze a second later when something unexpected pops.

“fuck…” Another yawn and Red’s throwing the blanket back over the bed so it’s minimally wrinkled. Small steps, yeah.

Thoughtfully, Axe had closed the door behind him after leaving, probably so he wouldn’t disturb Red’s sleep. It drags a half-smile over his face. He can already smell what Axe is cooking up, sweet.

Waffles, probably. Red likes waffles.

Axe usually wakes up earlier than Red, not that it’s by choice. He’s got an odd sort of sleep schedule, bouts of insomnia dotted with days or even weeks of fatigue. On the days that he’s up and out of bed before Red, he usually takes care of breakfast. And lunch. And dinner.

Heh, Red’s spoiled rotten.

One rotten little cracked egg that’s gonna get some waffles in a few. Red cracks the door open and shuffles into the kitchen.

Their apartment is small, which is obvious no matter what room you’re in, with _stuff_ crammed up everywhere, neatly. Axe is situated leaning up against a counter. Predictably, the waffle iron is pulled out and set up next to him, a little egg-shaped timer ticking away next to it.

Axe hears Red before he sees him, gaze trained on his phone before the sound of skeletal feet against the tile has him snapping his head up.

“mornin’, sunshine.” Red greets easily, coming up to lean his front against Axe’s: an armless hug. His chin gets tucked over Axe’s shoulder, right where there’s a big ol’ bite mark in the shape of his teeth hidden underneath his shirt. But Red knows.

A big arm comes around to settle around Red’s hips, pinning him to Axe.

“mornin’.” Axe slurs right back. There’s the sound of him setting his phone down before both arms are on Red, holding him loosely. “.... makin’ waffles.”

Red’s almost tempted to move his hips and sway the both of them, like some sort of lazy dance, but he doesn’t. Just rests there with his sockets slipping shut, probably grinning like a fucking idiot.

“yeah?” Red hums, “how much one o' these babies cost?”

The arms around him tighten by just the barest amount, and he can see Axe is struggling to choose between going along with the joke or reassuring Red that he’d never charge him for food.

Eventually, one wins out and Axe’s left hand trails up Red’s spine to settle over his shoulder.

“... a kiss should do it.”

Red glances up to see Axe looking right back at him, eye light hazy and sockets lidded. His teeth are pulled into that little half-smirk that he always gets when he knows he’s about to get what he wants. Red would snark him off just to wipe that smug look away, but he’s no good at denying Axe.

Instead, Red levies a challenging smirk of his own and drags his arms up until they’re both draped behind his boyfriend’s neck. He leans up until their teeth are just barely separated by a centimeter or so.

Then, Red winks and brushes their mouths together for just a second before pulling back. 

“that good?”

Axe’s skull is a little flushed, grin just a tad wider than a second ago. Of course, he’s up to the challenge, like always. It’s a bad day when Axe can’t throw back a few teases of his own.

The big guy hums, “think you’re _short_ a few... why don’tcha... try again?”

Red’s brows draw together as he chuckles and resists the urge to knock Axe over the head for his little joke. A few inches short of gigantic, _sure._ Not his fault Axe is so stupid tall. He not-so-subtly yanks Axe’s neck down so his skull is level with _Red’s_ this time and presses a harder kiss to the other’s teeth.

What he doesn’t expect is for Axe to throw that little move right back, _right then_ , holding Red tightly and laving his gross tongue all over Red’s lower face.

Red barely has time to think of reciprocating when the little egg timer starts dinging and Axe is letting him go in favor of tending to the waffles.

Lucky fuckin’ waffles.

Red makes a disgruntled noise and brings a sleeve up to wipe at the mess on his face, before deciding better of it and swiping his own tongue across his teeth. Tastes like snow and metal.

“dragon breath.” Red accuses, with no, heh, _heat_.

Like with most of Red’s insults, Axe lets the words roll right off his back and onto the floor to sit in a sad puddle of failed spite. “hehe,” Axe laughs, that soft little thing that melts Red every fucking time. He whirls around slowly and holds out a plate with one waffle on it, “ _bone_ appetite.”

Red takes the plate and starts eating the singular waffle, plain, with one hand, like it’s a tortilla or something. It’s hot, but skeletons aren’t so sensitive to temperatures like that. Red even enjoys the burn a little.

He chews obnoxiously, sure to let Axe see every bite.

“yum.” He says around waffle, “really hits the spot, thanks, sweetheart.”

Axe only spares him a blazing look and a snort before he’s pouring another batch of batter into the iron, “i got another one comin’ right up.”

“discount fer a loyal customer?” Red rumbles, watching as Axe resets the little timer.

“how ‘bout i do you one better and offer you a two for one deal?” Axe pitches it like he’s trying to convince Red to go down on him. Jokes on Axe, though, because Red’s a slut for anything Axe’ll give him, waffles and otherwise.

“hmmm…” Red hums, low in his throat like he’s considering the offer. “how many waffles you plannin’ on making, big guy?”

“how many you want?” Axe shoots back.

Which kind of floors Red, just a bit. Not how many waffles Red needs. Not how much is going to carry him through until lunch or dinner or whatever, how many does Red _want_. Stars, it’s so fucking decadent in the weirdest way.

So Red’s just quiet until Axe comes back over to hug him again, and they’re snuggling while standing up like they’re in love or something.

Axe feeds Red waffles until he’s had his fill, at which point Axe cooks up the remainder of the batter for himself and licks up what can’t be used. They both eat their waffles plain because syrup is too much work when you’re trying to melt into your partner, and somehow that transforms into smooching some more, as well.

“asshole,” Red finally accuses after all the waffles are gone and the kisses are flowing, “you said it was a two for one deal.”

“mmmhm.” Axe retorts playfully, “... two kisses per waffle.”

It startles a laugh out of Red, a real one. “yer a fuckin’ cheat, you know that?”

“‘s just business, ‘s all.” Axe replies easy, “pay up.”

Red pulls Axe down for another one of his signature spite kisses and grinds his nasal ridge into Axe’s just for that. It hits on just the right side of painful and Red gets a real nifty idea. He pulls away with a small pant. He tugs Axe towards the living room. “my legs are fuckin’ tired, sit with me.” Red demands more so than requests.

The two flop down onto the couch, with Axe sprawled out and Red quickly climbing on top of him. He straddles the larger monster’s lap and pins his shoulders to the back of the couch so he can kiss him easy.

This time Red’s the one introducing some tongue, not that Axe has any complaints. His big hands come to rest on Red’s hip bones.

Just so Axe doesn’t get any funny ideas about who’s in charge this time around, Red grinds down first so he can hear Axe gasp.

Axe’s sockets are wide as he looks up at Red, eye light large with shocked arousal. His jaws open, but his mouth’s silent.

“you down?” Red murmurs real quick in question, wanting to make sure he has the go ahead.

Axe makes a noise in the back of his throat and does a little half-nod, “just like this?” He requests softly.

Red’s sockets narrow as he thinks it over. He wasn’t planning on getting in Axe’s pants this morning, but…

He swipes the pollux of his thumb under Axe’s empty socket. “this good too?”

A dazzling little dusting of steel blue coats Axe maxilla and his sharp phalanges dig a little into Red’s hips. “.... yeah.”

Red grins sharply and goes back to the good part, which is kissing. Axe meets Red’s tongue with his own again, and they do that for a good while. It’s nice, but when Red’s tongue starts getting more adventurous, Axe lets him.

Lets him drag it up to that empty eye socket, where Red laves over the edges. 

Axe’s phalanges alternate between a tight and loose hold on Red as it happens, soft, breathy noises pulled out of him every few moments. Red keeps up with the grinding, just a little bit too hard to be comfy for bone-on-bone contact. But Axe doesn’t complain, and Red likes it.

At one point, Axe lifts his chin to offer up his neck and Red is quick to shift his attention, sucking on the vertebrae there. He gently pulls aside the shoulder of Axe’s shirt so he can see his mark and nuzzle it before lightly pressing into the indents with his teeth again. A reminder.

By now, both of their breathing is labored, sweat accumulating on their skulls and a little bit of drool running down their chins.

Red goes back to Axe's socket, where he swipes his tongue lightly around the inner rim as a test. And, when Axe jolts, he snickers.

“good?” Red asks.

“... yeah.” Axe gasps, “keep goin’.”

What kind of bastard would Red be to deny him?

The magic inside Axe’s skull is staticy, it curiously pokes at Red’s tongue like it’s trying to see if he’s digestible. Maybe that should be disturbing, but Red kind of likes the way it prickles.

Axe’s magic doesn’t always work right. Sometimes that means he can’t get it up, sometimes that means he's stuck with what he gets. But... that doesn’t mean he can’t feel _good_. No matter what configuration or lack thereof his junk takes.

Red’s real nice in the way that he likes finding all the different ways Axe can _feel good_ when his magic just won’t snap into place, or when he’s feeling too tired for some of their more _physical_ activities. 

The two of them had discovered this pretty early on, when they’d been exploring each other however they could think of. Turns out Axe’s dead socket is real sensitive on the inside. 

He’s tried to describe it before, like a sort of pressure that makes his magic buzz all wild, but all Red really needs to know is how to make that feel _good_.

And, _turns out_ , Red’s pretty good at that.

It isn’t long before Axe is making louder noises, spine all tensed like he’s waiting for Red’s permission to let go, and isn’t that just adorable. Red could give the signal at any time, with a brush to Axe’s jaw or a rub to his scapula.

But maybe he wants to draw this out a bit more - 

_buzz_

Both he and Axe startle, Red sitting up and pulling his tongue out of Axe’s eye socket.

Axe is wild-eyed in the eye he’s still got, looking over to the kitchen where his phone is still sitting innocently on the counter where he’d left it. He slumps back into the couch and groans, “ _fuck_.”

Red’s a little too proud to admit that scared him a little, so he defers to his one and only coping mechanism besides _stab_ : humor.

“fuckin' hell, that thing’s stronger than half our vibrators.” He snorts.

Axe grins and gives a small snicker, “beg enough an’ i might let you put it up your pelvis.”

“don’t make promises you can’t keep.” Red retorts. With a flick of his wrist, he’s bringing the pesky device back to them, just to check who’s bothering them on an afternoon like this. The screen says _vanilla_.

It’s Sans, then.

“oooohh…” Red coos with a wriggle of his brow bones, “sansy’s texting.” 

Axe is mostly just amused at Red’s antics, boneless and grinning, still slightly flushed from their paused activities. “what’d…. he say?”

Red unlocks Axe’s phone with ease and clicks into the message.

He can’t help but see a flash of the two’s previous messages. Red clicks his tongue in disappointment, “so fuckin’ dry, not even one goddamn dick pic.”

In fact, it’s mostly just Sans asking questions and Axe answering. Or, Axe extending invites and Sans agreeing. Sans had sent one meme, like, a month ago, but it was about - 

“...... any day now, babe.” Axe rasps, reminding Red that he’s supposed to be relaying the message and not scrolling through their messaging history.

Red offers a mischievous grin, “oops.” He scrolls back down and makes a curious noise, “he’s askin’ to call.”

Before Axe can say anything else, Red’s already hitting the little phone icon at the top of the screen and setting the device on speakerphone.

It rings a total of three times before Sans picks up, starting the conversation with a small _“hey._ "

“‘sup, sansy.” Red replies, winking at Axe.

Axe shoots Red a questioning quirk of his brow, but Red just pats Axe on the cheekbone, then holds his index finger up to his teeth. _Shhh._

Then, Red grinds right back down on Axe. All of the sudden, that desperation from before comes right back and Axe bites out a gasp.

“uhhhh…… red?” Sans questions.

“in the flesh, sweetheart, what’s up?” Red just knows his grin is shit-eating right now. Why have fun with one lover when there’s another one right on the other side of the phone?

There’s a shuffling sound, then a scratching one, like Sans is trying to figure out what’s going on. “i was kinda hopin’ to speak t’ the big guy real quick.”

Red snickers, looking down to where said monster is staring right back up with a shocked kind of look on his brightly colored skull. “he’s, uh,” Some more snickering, “kinda busy right now.” Punctuate that with another grind that has Axe clutching onto Red tightly.

The shock’s turned to a miniature sort of glare, which is a real delight. It’s not often Red actually manages to catch Axe off his game.

“oh, uh, okay. sh… should i call back?” Sans follows up with right after.

Red tsks and shoves a hand up Axe’s shirt to trace along his sensitive lower ribs. Axe’s hands don’t move from their spot, which is a pretty definitive show of consent for what’s about to happen. He could move Red if he wants, but he doesn’t.

“what’s wrong, sansy, don’t wanna chat with me?”’

Red gets the pleasure of seeing Axe’s sockets slip shut as he concentrates on trying not to key Sans off about their activities, all while _Sans_ is sputtering over the phone, trying to find a response that doesn’t sound rude.

“no, i mean, i just had to ask a question - it’s stupid, i’ll go,” Sans rattles off quickly.

Red strokes a deep chip on Axe’s lowermost false rib at the same time as he tells Sans, “stick around, sansy, i might got the answer you’re lookin’ for.”

Axe lets a heavy hiss out from between his teeth, rib cage arched into Red’s hand. Red cradles the phone between his shoulder and skull, adding in a second hand to hold up Axe’s shirt while he works.

There we go. Nice and pretty, the way Axe lights up for him.

Sans sighs on the other side, and Red wishes for a second that he was here, sighing for another reason.

Damn, if only he wasn’t so cagey about moving in after a few dates…

Heh.

Well, at least a _sleepover_ would be nice...

“i, uh, i got tickets to the planetarium. there’s a show tonight i was….”

This time, it’s Red who’s blushing. Fuck if Sans’ little sense of sincerity doesn’t fuckin’ disarm him faster than he can eat a waffle.

He even forgets to keep stroking at Axe, who makes a little noise of complaint. Red gives him a good little scritch to his sternum as an apology, which causes him buck his pelvis into Red’s again, which _then_ sets off another little chain of micro-reactions.

“.... what time?” Red asks, feeling a little breathless.

“i’d pick you two up at five, i mean, that is, if you want to…?” Bitching stars, Sans is far too nervous asking for this sort of thing. Red would probably hang out with him behind a dumpster, that’s how fucking soft he is. Not that he’d willingly admit it.

(Besides, for a good few years, dumpsters were Red’s _scene_.)

But.

Seems Axe has had enough of Red’s on-and-off teasing, because he sits up, causing Red to lose his balance a little, and quickly snatches up the phone. He’s panting, holding Red behind the shoulders with one arm, shaking and sweating from being denied.

“.... sounds nice.” Axe rasps, “send… the details.”

Sans can hardly get in a confirmation before Axe hangs up and tosses the phone aside.

Red watches it bounce onto the carpet with a raised brow.

“rude.” he says, “and after sansy was so nice to invite us -”

Axe chooses then to return Red’s little favor by grabbing onto his lower spine with his newly freed hand and squeezing.

Red _squeaks_ and breaks out in a new coat of sweat.

“that’s rich comin’ from you.” Axe tells him lowly, then brings Red in for a long kiss. When their teeth part, Red’s the one gasping.

“needy.” Red teases with flaring eye lights, small in his sockets. 

“i’ll fuckin’ show you _needy_ ….”

… 

It takes them a while to clean up before Sans gets there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahhh,,,,,,,,,
> 
> okay im not going to lie im kind of in love with this chapter. just.
> 
> emotions!!!!! i can't get enough of the banter between axe and red,,,,,,, currently sans is a little too shy to participate in the same back-and-forth, but there shall be a day where the three of them bicker like an old married couple (thruple?) and when that happens i can die happy fdjskl;f
> 
> also!! eye socket rimming?? strange but it works.
> 
> i mean. for magical skeletons. not for humans. please dont lick your partners eyes,,,,,,, at least not without enthusiastic consent ig fjdksl;f

**Author's Note:**

> ah, yes, my favorite ship dynamic:
> 
> bastard x bastard
> 
> they definitely wrestle at home for stupid reasons, like the remote. and leg space on the couch.


End file.
